The Moon's Mission
by mistakendragon815
Summary: Remus' mission by the Order is a massacre for his own kind. The Order can only watch and wait for the moon and what it does to the werewolf.


**Stuff: Alrighty my watchers and fellow readers, here goes: I'M SORRY I HAVEN"T WRITTEN A STORY FOR OVER 8mths!!! This is my first Harry Potter Fic though...  
Depending on people's feedback, I can make this into a Remus/Hermione romance fic...or just a friendship one :D. Review to give feedback XOXO**

His face hurt. Why? What was the strange yet familiar throbbing near his lungs? He seemed to know the pain, but he didn't quite understand as to why it was coming to him now. He didn't know what to make of it for surely the moon hadn't already risen yet. Yes, he knew that he would get injured during the Final Battle, but he couldn't been asleep for _that_ long. Perhaps Poppy gave him a sleeping potion at some point, but he must have just woken _after_ his metamorphism. But even that didn't make sense. He healed quickly; which made him come back around to his original question that summarised everything.

Why?

At the time of the battle he had a week until the moon became whole and with that, his senses and agility heightened dramatically, making him an important ally against the rest of Voldemort's werewolves. The last remaining thought before he landed on something sharp was that he killed Greyback - who had, as it appears, almost killed him.

The scent of sterile metal fumed up his nostrils and made him squint in disgust. Opening his eyes warily, the werewolf waited for the dark grey glare to settle and let his eyes adjust to the fact the he was in a white curtained box room polluted with shredded white fabric. He tried to move his arms so he could rub the sleep from his eyes, but found he was immobilised by thick leather restraints. This then lead his attention to several tubes attached to various vials containing blue, red and cream potions. Three tubes were attached to his right arm whilst the one to his left, and no doubt in several other spots that he could not see, which were all dripping foul bronze-blue liquid into a small beaker.

As the injured man looked around only with his eyes, for his neck sent shockwaves of pain to his nervous system, he noticed broken glass swept neatly in a corner, with a bit scattered around as if the person who cleaned the mess accidentally stepped in the pile. Blood adorned the other wise pristine walls in the form of long thin wisps, splatters and heavily pressed smudges. Adding to the decor was the foul substance oozing into the beaker where it had dripped in a few places. It was the rarest colour in the room, but the most noticeable. A broken tube of specially designed plumbing with a dozen or so small pipes lay uselessly by his bedside table; which he sensed magical residue on, meaning it had been rebuilt not that long ago.

He rustled the sheets a bit, trying to move he legs but found they had been strapped down too. A sudden clamour of his bedside bell prompted an immediate knock on his door. He croaked a confirmation for the person to enter. Even his voice felt restrained. A small house elf and a young woman entered with a tray of food, mostly consisting of fruit and cold meats. The nurse sported a sling and a small scratch on her left cheek.

"_What is with all the blood and injuries?" _ The wolf asked himself.

"M-mister Lupin?" He nodded in acknowledgement. A coughed emitted from deep within his throat and rudely spluttered in front of her for he could not cover his face. He apologized and let her speak and watched as the elf levitated the tray above his lap.

"How are you feeling today?"

For some reason, after he had apologized to her, the nurse went from fragile and tense, to serene and comforting. His throat was raw and parched and his answers came out slightly slurred.

"'ah al'ite." The nurse smiled and dismissed her helper. "Wah hap'ened?"

"You've been…" She paused and her eyes flickered across at the room. "Asleep for nine days, Mister Lupin. We hoped for you to have a quick recovery from your fight ... but you seemed to worsen on your fifth night. Then ..." she sniffed and readjusted her sling, "you changed." She said those last three words in such a patronizing way. He was sure she meant respect but that's not how it came across.

"Nurse?" The lady in question turned towards her small helper who had just reopened the door. "He has a visitor. A Miss Granger." The nurse nodded for him to let her in. Remus, unfazed by the newcomer, drifted slowly back to sleep; but soon discovered he was forbidden to do that.

"Mister Lupin!?" The nurse quickly reawakened him. "You mustn't sleep, I'm afraid. Your body needs to heal and the only way for it to do that is for you to eat and not rely on the potions as heavily." Lupin nodded and stared at his platter. "Now, if you'd just let me undo your restraints, I'll leave you two alone."

Hermione watched with pain in her eyes as her former professor was humiliated in front of her. No doubt no one wanted others to see that they couldn't control themselves well enough that they had to be bound to their beds. As the nurse moved the tray to the side, she unclasped the leather cuffs with her wand and summoned them over to her awaiting left hand. Next she slid his covers down, his body covered with a dreadful hospital robe, unbuckling his torso and waist harnesses. Last were his legs before all the leather was collect and the nurse left. Hermione offered an apologetic smile.

"Should I have come later?"

Her old professor shook his head whilst she moved his tray back into place and sat at his legs.

"Ah don' hink e woo'uve took them off eef you..." he coughed violently at the strain his was giving his voice box and snatched the water jug. He sculled the cool drink like there was no tomorrow, not caring that the young woman was staring at him with concern and slight wonder.

Proffering her wand, she offered to relieve his throat.

"Thank you, Miss Granger." She just smiled.

"How have you been? Since, well…" He trailed off. Remus noticed the faint scarring above her right brow and on her lips. He didn't know that her shoulder had been dislocated, that her left calf muscle had been torn and that even after a magical heal, it will always bear a pinkish scar and some ligament damage. Nor did he know how many of their friends had died and how broken-hearted she was.

She sighed heavily, mustering up courage.

"I've been…coping, to say the least. Some scratches here and there but I'll live." Her unconvincing optimism was seen through by the werewolf who had taken a like to a particular bunch of grapes.

"The truth, Miss Granger, is all I'm asking." His voice was soft and he reached down slightly to pat her hand comfortingly. "What happened?"

"W-we won. If that really what you call it." She gave a small sad chuckle, noticing the glimmer of delight in her old professor's eyes. "But we lost a few. Bill, George, Tonks, Lavender Brown and Percy…they're all dead." Hermione swallowed her tears and attempted to deliver the news; each name digging a deep hole in both their hearts. "They were buried two days ago. I'm so sorry you missed it."

Remus swallowed deeply, his food abandoned and his hand still comforting the girls'.

"What about everyone else?"

"After the ceremony of the war victims, Harry went back to Sirius' place along with the Weasley's and me. My Mum and dad were killed so I've got nowhere else to go." A tear dropped. "Harry and Mister Weasley came to stay with you last night." Remus straightened up dramatically. Last night was when the room was destroyed. His sudden movement earned him a moment of agony, his muscles protesting to the sudden movement. He groaned loudly but assured Hermione to continue.

"You've been in isolation for a week so they decided to keep you company. I don't think anyone was keeping track of the Cycle though because it's been so busy. Foolish if you ask me, considering the risks invol .. " Hermione stopped herself from saying something insulting.

"Did… I do anything to them?"

The 17 year old looked away, not wanting to answer him. She knew the elder Weasley was a floor below them being treated for scarring and a broken arm; she knew that the boy who lived had escaped with only a cut lip before the Aurora medics literally shoved him out of the room to sedate the wolf. She also knew that he had killed 2 of the 7 wizards who were trying to help him. Hermione told all this to her former mentor. She was told to leave whilst he vomited in his spittoon.

Twenty minutes later, Remus said she could come back in. His tray had disappeared back to the kitchen, as had his soiled bucket. Forgetting about his pain and formality, Hermione rushed over to the head of his bed and hugged him closely. He had lost so much, and now knowing mainly everything that happened since the war did not help.

Amber eyes widened in pain and shock as he inhaled her flowery scent and soaked in her warmth. She let go too soon for his liking. He had felt so cold since he woke up. That mystery would soon be explained.

"T-thank you, Miss G-Granger." He was unfamiliar with such loving and concern contact.

She coughed and took her place by his legs again.

"There's something else." He cocked an eyebrow for her to continue. "Even though the nurses say most of it is out and you have a good chance of surviving since you transformed, your vitals have weakened because of the transformation but you're going to live."

Remus held up an impatient hand. "Miss Granger, in all respects, I want to know what's happening with me and your rambling isn't helping the cause." He calmed. "What happening to me?"

Hermione had herself more comfortable on his bed, biding her time before telling him what happened.

"We, Mrs Weasley, Kingsley and I, found you on top of Peter Pettigrew. We didn't know if you were dead or alive with all the blood surrounding you, but Kingsley found a weak pulse. He tried to lift you but stopped when he saw-." Hermione stopped and wiped her leaking eyes with a tissue she conjured from nowhere. Remus looked at her with tired, expecting and woeful eyes, urging her to continue.

"Sorry."

"It's alright; take as much time as you need."

"We found Peter's hand-claw-thing…lodged into you back. It was made of silver." The little colour freckling Remus' face drained.

"We flooed you here as soon as possible and everything was going smoothly until the full moon. You destroyed your life support," Hermione pointed to the long bended tube on the ground, "which was attached to your spine. The Aurora's said when they came to us back at Grimmuald with Harry that you were in so much pain that your werewolf side went insane and destroyed everything and more." She looked at his scratched face and then at the gory room. "They were right."

Far be it from Remus to not allow the girl to express her emotions in front of him…for him. He gazed at her shaking form at the foot of his bed as she cried for him and everyone else. After learning comfort from Lily, Remus did the only thing he could do. He defied his aching muscles, tugged on the former student shoulders and embraced her. He hugged her tightly, unwilling to let go until her tears had left. She swept her arms unconcernedly around under his, linking them at his back, squishing against his cuts. Neither cared. They only cared about the comfort the other gave.

**Other stuff: Well, my Beta** .net/u/1707093/ **Jiraiya-the-bishie, did a great job and I reckon I did well keeping the charcters in character :/ What do you reckon eh?**


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